


Lips Are for Biting

by humblepirate



Series: Dentist Au [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Blowjobs, Comfort, Degradation, Dentist AU, Facial, Hair Pulling, M/M, Masturbation, face fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 13:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humblepirate/pseuds/humblepirate
Summary: Dentist AU! Inspired by Qwerty_Hargreeves_25's AMAZING fic "Not Falling but Floating (Until You Hit the Ground)" and capyshota's equally incredible sequel "Upper Left Lateral Incisor". This is a peek into what I think happened behind the scenes of Diego's appointment ;)





	Lips Are for Biting

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Not Falling but Floating (Until You Hit The Ground)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19164127) by [Qwerty_Hargreeves_25](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwerty_Hargreeves_25/pseuds/Qwerty_Hargreeves_25). 



Klaus is not in the habit of hitting on patients. He’s not. He and Ben have done the swingers thing, a couple Grindr dates that had left everyone perfectly satisfied, but that was different. Online, there’s a pretense, a shared understanding that you’re all here for the same fucking thing (usually, the  _ fucking _ thing). It’s different in person, where there are no ready-made bios spelling out strangers’ sexual preferences in clear and definite terms. It’s so much easier to face the threat of rejection via text message. Swipe left and on to the next.

But the moment Diego walked into the office, Klaus was ready to risk it  _ all _ for him.

He hears the tinkle of the front door, surprising since he was sure there were no more appointments that day. He leans out of the back room where he’d been wrapping things up, and he’s pretty sure his heart actually stops when he sees the man standing in the front lobby, the face of a goddamn angel looking like he’s just stepped through the doors of hell. His hands lie stiff at his sides like he doesn’t know where to put them, tongue heavy as he trips over his responses to Five’s questions. All the signs of a grown man too proud to admit he’s afraid of the dentist. Klaus could show him a good time. He could show him how  _ wonderful _ the dentist could really be.

He won’t get the chance, though, if his idiot misanthrope of a little brother scares the guy away first. As soon as Five has handed the man the paperwork, Klaus shoos him away from the front counter and plops down in the wheeled chair. He takes a lollipop from his stash that Ben pretends not to know about and pops it in his mouth. Cherry flavor. His favorite.

As he props his spider-legs up on the counter (Five had always made fun of how skinny he was, even after the filling-out of adulthood, but most men would compose sonnets about his legs so he isn’t too self-conscious about it), he feels his heart tremor with the thrill of flirtation. He hasn’t been this giddy since high school, when he started wearing skinny jeans every day in order to impress a certain baby-faced lab partner in biology class. Thirteen years later, Ben’s sculpted cheekbones have properly asserted themselves in the aftermath of post pubescence, though he still trips over his own tongue whenever he sees Klaus in tight pants.

Klaus twirls the end of the lollipop between his fingers, lets it clack against his teeth. The sensation is grounding, reminding him that yes, as much as he wants to drag this man into the back room and give himself something else to suck on, this is still  _ real life _ . He has a job to do, a job that will unfortunately place his fingers in the guy’s mouth in a variety of significantly less gratifying ways, and he’s not going to fuck it up just because he can’t keep it in his pants.

Nothing’s to say, however, that he can’t hit on a patient  _ after _ the appointment. Klaus has an uncanny gift of reading people’s sexual preferences, and he’s pretty sure he’s got this guy pegged (figuratively and literally, if things go well), but again, this is still real life. You can’t go around assuming things about people in real life. They don’t come neatly packaged with their age, alma mater, and an overplayed quote from  _ The Office _ . He has to handle this one delicately.

_ Oh, he’ll be delicate all right. _

He’s so caught up in thinking about how he’ll go about convincing his husband to help him seduce one of their patients that he doesn’t notice the man approaching the counter until the clipboard  _ smacks _ against the granite. Eager, are we? Klaus takes the clipboard and glances at the man’s name.  _ Diego _ . Wonderful name, a solid, enthralling name. He can’t wait to scream it whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

Diego of the Yet-to-be-Determined Sexual Preference is looking at him like he isn’t sure whether to scream or profess his undying love, and Klaus decides that cherry was an apt choice of flavors.

“Don’t worry, Five usually has that effect on people,” he says, shooting the man a grin glowing with mischief. “I sent him on a time out. He’s a mean little bastard when he hasn’t had his coffee.”

Diego just stares at him, and with each moment that he doesn’t speak Klaus becomes more confident that his premature appraisal had been spot-fucking-on.

“Aren’t those supposed to be really bad for your teeth?” he blurts.

Klaus raises an eyebrow. So he’s not so much a clumsy otter as just plain awkward about flirting. This is fine, Klaus thinks, he can work with awkward. He laughs, a high, musical chime of a laugh that belongs at a fancy cocktail party rather than the lobby of an empty dentist’s office, and he takes the lollipop from his mouth with practiced seduction.

“Luckily, I have an excellent dentist,” he says. He twirls the candy between his fingers and lets the corner of his mouth quirk up in a knowing grin. “Besides, it’s nice to have something to suck on now and then, isn’t it?”

Diego’s eyes widen and Klaus thinks:  _ Bingo _ .

As he leads the man down the hallway toward the exam room, he can’t help noticing the way Diego’s hands twitch and drum against his thigh even when he’s walking, like he isn’t used to leaving them idle for long. Absently, Klaus wonders what he does for work to get them so strong and calloused. A carpenter, maybe? Perhaps some kind of martial arts instructor. Shit, that would be kinda hot.

Just as he has a supernatural knowledge of what turns people on, more than four years of dental experience have endowed him with a remarkable ability to read people’s emotions in the exam chair, and this guy is giving off some serious dentist-phobia vibes. It’s so endearing that it makes Klaus’s heart squeeze, this terrified man trying so hard not to show any signs of vulnerability; he’s sure there are plenty of layers of scarring underneath his facade but Klaus is not a therapist, he’s a dental assistant, and he’s going to dental the shit outta this poor guy.

“Are you’re sure you’re okay to do this today?” he asks gently. He rubs a hand over Diego’s back in slow, calming circles. “The doctor can prescribe you something for anxiety. You can come back another day.”

Diego shakes his head, jaw set and eyes determined. “No,” he says with clear effort. “If I don’t do it today, I’m not doing it. I won’t come back.”

Strong-willed  _ and _ self-aware. Be still, his beating heart.

“Are you sure? You want it done today?” Klaus says, just to be sure, just to give Diego one last out.

“I’m positive, please. I just want this to be done with.”

It’s not exactly sanitary to clean someone’s teeth when you have a mouthful of lollipop, so Klaus sates his oral fixation during cleanings with constant chatter. It annoys some patients, the cliche of the chatty dentist asking you questions while his hands are all up in your mouth and preventing you from responding, but Klaus doesn’t ask anything that requires an answer. He talks about his humdrum childhood, where he went to dental school, how he and Ben met, the puppy he’s been eyeing at the local animal shelter despite Ben’s severe dog allergies. He fills the room with fluff that rises to the ceiling and dissipates amongst the uncaring fluorescent lamps, until the last of the steam clears and Diego’s teeth are all clean.

Diego sits up and runs his tongue over his teeth. Klaus had been so immersed in spilling details of his personal life to fill the silence that he’s caught off guard by the little  _ ping _ of arousal that hits him at the sight. God, he’s more gone on this man than he realized.

“All done! Not so bad, right?” he says, mostly to remind himself that he is  _ still at work, god dammit _ .

“No. Not at all. That was actually okay,” Diego says with a tinge of awe. “Thank you.”

“Any time, big guy,” he replies with a wink.

As he pulls his mask off, the elastic catches on the band only just barely holding back his curls and the material  _ snaps _ , sending Klaus’s hair tumbling down around his face.

“Whoops,” he giggles.

He could pretend it was an accident when he runs his fingers through his tight curls and fluffs them out even more, but that would most definitely be a lie. Diego reacts just as he’d expected, face flushing red and spine straightening as he tries very hard not to look like he’d been ogling Klaus like a swimsuit model emerging from the ocean in a spray of fireworks. His hands twitch again, though Klaus suspects his brain is far away from whatever had been occupying his mind before.

And, okay, it’s not like he’s been staring at Diego’s crotch this whole time because he definitely  _ hasn’t _ , but he will admit to glancing at it a couple times. Maybe more. And it’s probably the result of a hopeful and far too vivid imagination, but the slight bulge behind the fly of Diego’s jeans seems, perhaps, a bit more…  _ prominent _ .

“The doctor will be here in just a second, okay?” Klaus says, trying very very hard not to hope that what he hopes is happening is happening. “I’ve got to go deal with this.”

With a long-suffering gesture at his poof of unruly curls, Klaus rises and hurries out of the exam room, down the hall to where Ben is prepping in his office.

“Ho-ly  _ fuck _ , Ben,” he cries.

Ben whirls around, a finger at his lips and a cell phone at his ear. Klaus rolls his eyes and collapses on the couch beneath the window, propping his feet up on the arm.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes. I’ll be happy to give you a call back by Thursday,” Ben says. “Yes. Yes, you too. Take care.” He ends the call and whirls on Klaus with a look of fury that would make even Five shrink away. “Would you care to explain to me,” he says, “why you felt it was  _ so important _ to interrupt my phone call with a potentially  _ very _ lucrative business contact?”

Klaus rolls his eyes again. “C’mon, we both know you don’t actually give a shit about all that. You’re never selling the practice,” he says.

Ben drops into his desk chair and massages his temples with a look of thin patience. “We’ve gone over this, Klaus. I’m not trying to-”

“Look, no, shut the fuck up,” Klaus says, leaning toward him with a tense energy. Ben looks like he’s second away from slapping him. “There’s this guy here for a filling-”

“Diego Castañeda? Yeah, Five told me. He was half an hour late for his appoi-”

“Forget all that. Have you  _ seen _ the guy?” Klaus falls back against the couch cushions with a dramatic sigh. “His body was sculpted by  _ angels _ , Ben, I swear to god.”

Now it’s Ben’s turn to roll his eyes. “Really? You burst in here to tell me  _ that _ ?” He spins in his chair and starts typing something on his computer.

Klaus slides off the couch like a slinky and drapes himself over the back of Ben’s chair, wrapping his arms around his husband’s chest so the latter is forced to pay attention to him.

“He’s  _ gorgeous _ , Benny. Like… like fuckin’, Fabio or something, but with shorter hair. And not riding a horse.” Klaus presses a sweet kiss to the side of Ben’s neck, right where he  _ knows _ the man is most sensitive, the little shit. “Okay, maybe he doesn’t actually look like Fabio at all. But I swear, I wouldn’t bother to tell you about it if I didn’t think you’d like him too!”

Ben sighs and closes his laptop, resigned to the understanding that he will be getting no more paperwork done this afternoon. “You know how these things go, Klaus. There are too many variables to consider in… this situation.” He clears his throat. “We would lose a new patient, at best. At worst, we could be facing a lawsuit if he-”

“He won’t.” Klaus kisses Ben’s neck again, slower, letting his lips really  _ drag _ over the close-cut stubble below his husband’s jaw, relishing the little sting it leaves behind on his skin. He pinches just a sliver of skin between his incisors, tugging on it playfully before rolling it between his teeth, and the sound of Ben’s gentle gasp makes him glow like a sunset.

“He won’t,” he repeats. Klaus soothes over the spot with a lick and then delivers a sweet peck to his husband’s cheek before straightening up.

Ben groans as he rubs over the spot Klaus had just bitten. “Fantastic. You left a hickey.” He glances at his watch. “Fuck, there’s no time to try covering it up. Let’s hope the man doesn’t notice.” He fixes Klaus with a warning glare. “Or sue us for sexual harassment.”

Klaus holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “I’m just saying, babe. Once you lay eyes on him, you’ll know  _ exactly _ what I mean.”

Ben is not in the habit of hitting on patients. He has never, not once, shown even a fraction of a feeling that could be mildly construed as flirting with a patient. He has more than enough to occupy his mind between Klaus with his obnoxiously slim-fitting scrubs and keeping Five from mauling someone with a clipboard. There’s a deep sense of pride that comes from his work, from taking care of people, and he has always been careful not to do anything that might damage the trust his patients put in him.

All of that flies right out the window as soon as he sees the man waiting for him in the exam chair.

Klaus hadn’t exaggerated; this man really was sculpted by the gods. Even through his drab turtleneck, it’s obvious that he’s no stranger to the weight room, but he’s not so muscular as to look like those red-faced guys you see in protein shake commercials. His body is lithe, more panther than gorilla, with hands that look like they’re used to physical labor. His close-cropped hair hints at something in the military realm, though he gives off an unmistakable air of “does not respond well to authority”. A pale raised scar winding its way over his temple cranks up the air of mystery a couple more notches.

It takes Ben several moments to remember how to breathe, and then a couple more to remember that he walked into this room for a reason.

“Mr. Castañeda?” he says.

The man tenses, fingers digging white-knuckled into the material of the chair, and Ben notices that his body language just screams “dentophobia”. He feels himself relax a bit. Maybe it’s weird, but he feels calmer when he knows he’s the most competent one in the room, that he is the one in control of the situation. He’s sure that if Klaus could read his thoughts, he’d have a few choice things to say about that, but thankfully his incorrigible husband has decided for once to wait quietly on the sidelines for Ben’s instruction.

As Ben readies his tools and talks the patient through the procedure, something he’s done a thousand times at least, he gets the inscrutable sensation of being wholly ignored. He glances over at Klaus, who’s gazing fondly at Diego, who’s strangling the chair arms and staring at the far window like he’s trying to set it on fire with his mind.

Ben puts down his tools and steps up behind the chair, close enough to see a faint sheen of sweat gathering on Diego’s forehead. He places a gentle hand on the man’s wrist.

“Hey,” he says, “are you okay?” Diego is still staring lasers at the adjacent wall, and it occurs to Ben that he’s barely gotten a nod out of the man since he entered the room. “Wait a second, have you even looked at me since I came in here?”

Diego’s Adam’s apple bobs with a nervous swallow, and Ben has to mentally pinch himself to keep from imagining his own teeth sinking into the rippling flesh. “No,” he grits out.

There’s a beat of silence during which Diego’s gaze slides down to his lap, and Ben can see a bit of the fight leak out of his hunched shoulders. “I didn’t mean to,” he finally says. “Honestly, I’m just doing everything I can not to walk out of here right now.”

Ben smiles. It’s a classic case of dentist jitters, nothing he hasn’t managed hundreds of times before. He places a delicate hand on Diego’s shoulder, careful to squash the urge to knead the tension out of those beautiful shoulders. “Just take a breath,” he says softly. “Look up. It’s going to be okay.”

When Diego looks up, it’s the first time Ben has really gotten a proper view of his face and  _ hoo boy _ does that do it for him. His eyes remind Ben of crawling into a warm, cozy bed on an especially chilly winter evening. He has a jaw that could chisel through mountains, but there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in his features that gives him an aura of gentleness. Absently, Ben notices that there are two small gold hoops in his ears, and he wonders if there are any other places where Diego is pierced.

_ Unethical, immoral, inappropriate on so many levels it isn’t even funny- _

“Let’s just talk for a while,” he says. “You’re my last patient of the day, so there’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.” He tries for a comforting smile. “I’m Doctor Hargreeves, but you can call me Ben, okay? What would you like me to call you?”

“Diego is fine,” the man says.

Something tells Ben that Diego is very much not fine right now, given how close he is to ripping the arms right off the exam chair, but at least he’s not catatonic. This he can work with.

“Diego then,” Ben says with another smile. “Now, Diego, I’ve been doing this for a while. What you’ve got going on in there is as simple as it gets. It’s one of the very first things I learned in school. Are you worried about something going wrong?”

“No, no, it’s not that, exactly.” Diego’s throat ripples again as he swallows down his nerves and Ben has to fight a sudden urge to kiss him. To  _ kiss _ a patient, for heaven’s sake! He really shouldn’t let Klaus get in his head like this at work.

“I just, uh,” Diego continues. “I don’t like having my mouth held open. And the suction. I hate the suction. I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

The tiny Klaus in the back of his mind is absolutely  _ loving _ the unintended double entendres here. Ben does his best to ignore that tiny Klaus.

He nods sagely (or at least he hopes it comes off that way, because fuck, the longer he looks into those molten brown eyes the more he can feel his control slipping, and that is not a feeling of which he is terribly fond). “Klaus said that you did okay during your cleaning, and he’s going to be the one assisting me today,” he says. “Is that okay?”

Diego gives him a tight nod. “That’s fine, yeah. That’s good.”

At least his husband hadn’t scarred him too horribly during the cleaning. He nods again and continues down his mental checklist. “Do you remember your safe word?” he asks.

Diego’s already flushed face grows a couple shades darker at that. “What is it with you people and safe words?” he chuckles.

It’s a good thing Ben has as much mental fortitude as he does, because his imagination tries to run to all  _ sorts _ of inappropriate places when Diego says that. “They can be a useful tool,” he says, ignoring tiny-brain-Klaus’s addition of  _ In more ways than one _ . “If the idea makes you uncomfortable, though, we can try something else.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s all fine.”

Ben only partially hopes he’s imagining the double meaning in Diego’s voice.

The procedure really is simple. He takes the numbing agent with little resistance, and from there it’s just a matter of filling and packing the cavity. No pain, just the antiseptic tang of latex and the weirdly intimate sensation of having a stranger’s hands in your mouth. Diego doesn’t look flushed anymore, but pale, almost alarmingly so, even though he’s doing such a good job holding still while Ben works.

He leans closer so Diego can hears him and speaks in the velvety cadence not usually reserved for a professional setting. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “I’m so proud of you. I know you’re scared, but you are doing so, so well.”

Diego’s eyelids flutter half-closed, and Ben just knows that Klaus is eating this up. It was risky, he knows, but he’s starting to realize that his husband’s initial assessment might not have been so far off the mark as he’d thought.

Ben places the tools on the counter and reaches back in with just a finger, feeling to make sure there’s nothing amiss with his work. He watches without really understanding as Diego’s lips seal around the finger- and then he almost loses it right there when the boy closes his eyes and  _ sucks _ .

It’s a tiny thing, barely a whisper of something more, but Ben thinks he might actually combust right then. It’s unexpected, and strange, and perfect, and a scintillating taste of everything he wants from Diego but-

He’s still a  _ professional _ , god dammit.

Diego’s thoughts seem to stray down a similar path, as he jerks away from Ben’s hand and sits upright with a frenzied look, skin about seven shades of vermillion.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasps. “I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t.”

He’s embarrassed, poor thing. Ben rubs a comforting hand over his shoulders (god, how defined they are even beneath his woolen turtleneck). “Shh, shh. It’s okay,” he soothes. “It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s a natural reaction, happens all the time.”

Klaus snorts quietly behind him. “No it doesn’t,” he mutters, with the air of someone who has just been proven exceedingly right.

Ben turns only just enough to swat Klaus on the leg. “ _It happens_ _all the time_ ,” he repeats.

Klaus sticks his tongue out at Ben as he drops into an unoccupied swivel chair. “Yeah, uh huh. All the time,” he says, giving Diego a cheeky wink. “Twice a day at least.”

Diego’s shoulders hunch again and he seems to shrink in on himself. Immediately Klaus’s demeanor shifts, clearly unprepared for the depth of the man’s shame. “Hey, no, it really is fine,” he says, patting his knee awkwardly. “Why, if I had a dollar for every time I-”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Ben interjects before Klaus can make the poor guy turn any redder. “Would you like some water? Klaus, get him some water.”

“Yes, sir.”

Klaus rises from the chair and gives him a naughty smile. It’s the kind of smile that a child gives their parent right before doing something that they’d promised they wouldn’t do, and Ben doesn’t trust it at all. He narrows his eyes in suspicion, but Klaus just grabs one of the little waxy paper cups from the counter and fills it with cool water.

Ben continues to rub comforting circles over Diego’s back. He focuses on the sound of Klaus’s absent humming, because he’s pretty sure if he hears Diego swallowing his mind will go to places that it really,  _ really _ shouldn’t be going in this situation. More than it already has, anyway.

“Are you okay? Do you feel better?” he asks softly. “We can take a break if you need to, but we really are almost done. I just need to make sure that everything set properly.”

There’s a brief pause, and then Diego nods once. “Yeah,” he says, surprisingly calm. “Yeah, I’m okay. You said you were almost done?”

Ben smiles. “Almost done.”

“Alright.” Diego settles back in the chair and sets his jaw. “Let’s finish it.”

Ben can feel the doctor side taking control as he changes into a new pair of gloves. He likes to comfort people, to take care of them, and he won’t deny that the way Diego is behaving is really appealing to that side of him. He leans over and continues his work, prodding the filling with careful fingers, as thorough in his work as he is in all facets of his life.

“You’ve done so well,” he murmurs, almost absently, as he examines the filling. “We’re almost done now. I’m really proud of you.”

The tension in Diego’s limbs betrays the nerves he still feels, but he doesn’t fight it, lets the anxiety wash over him and breathes through it all. He’s trying so hard to be good for Ben. He’s been doing so well.

Shit, Ben is kinda turned on.

He clears his throat, mostly to distract himself from the situation about to arise in his pants. “Great job, we’re all done now,” he says, giving Diego an appreciative smile. “You did a fantastic job! I just have to make sure there aren’t any sharp edges, okay?”

That is definitely a thing he has to do. It is definitely a part of this procedure, which he’s done countless times before, and is definitely  _ not _ an excuse to maintain his proximity to Diego’s mouth. What happens next could have a million explanations. These rubber gloves, you know, they get so slick when he’s working, and he’s been awake since five a.m. One really couldn’t fault him for slipping and definitely-maybe-accidentally brushing the back of Diego’s throat.

All three of them hang suspended in the fog of tension. It’s only a moment but to Ben it feels like several lifetimes, and the longer it stretches on the more uncertain he feels, there’s an apology and a feeble excuse rushing to his tongue-

And then slowly, unmistakably, the muscles in Diego’s throat ripple just like Ben has admired them too many times this afternoon, but this time-  _ this time- _ they’re constricting around his throat. On purpose.

_ On purpose. _

His heart pulses at the sudden rush of blood straight to a concentrated location in his lower body. It’s his dick. He is experiencing an erection right now, and just as he feels the elation of his advances possibly being reciprocated he is crushed under the utter embarrassment of getting his finger sucked at work.

Ben quickly snatches his hand back and whirls around. “You did very well,” he says as he removes his gloves with a brisk  _ snap! _ that’s far too loud for this room. “That should definitely hold, but if you have any issues just come by. We will always fit you in.”

_ I’d definitely like to fit  _ him _ in, _ pipes up tiny-brain-Klaus.

Real Klaus is looking at him with a look that says  _ I love my idiot husband _ . And maybe a tiny bit of  _ Fuck you, I knew I was right _ . Ben sticks his tongue out at him in a very unprofessional manner.

“Don’t eat anything too hot or cold for a couple hours. At least until the numbness wears off, okay?” he tells Diego. The words tumble over themselves and his face is fighting very hard not to blush with what little blood he has to spare. “I’m going to go get your bag together. Just come to the desk when you’re ready, okay?” He starts for the door. “Klaus, come and help me?”

Klaus waits until they’re safely in the closet behind the front counter before he shoves Ben against the closed door. “What did I tell you?” he breathes against Ben’s neck. His hands are sliding under Ben’s shirt as Ben’s hand is cupping him over his obnoxiously skimpy scrubs. He drags his teeth over Ben’s jaw and pants into his gasping mouth. “What did I  _ fucking tell you _ ?”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” Ben whispers into his husband’s mouth. He anchors Klaus with a hand fisted in his bird’s-nest curls and the other massaging his cock over his scrubs. “Of course you’re already hard,” he chuckles. “It’d be a miracle if Diego didn’t notice anything back there.”

Klaus whines and presses closer to his husband. His breath comes in needy pants as he grinds his hips against Ben’s hands with a fervor. Ben tightens his grip on Klaus’s hair and  _ pulls _ , the way he knows the other man needs it, the way he knows it makes him fucking insane, and the euphoric shriek that tears itself from his perfect pink lips would put the angels to shame.

“You like that idea, hm?” Ben murmurs. “Want Diego to see how horny you get just  _ thinking  _ about him?” He flattens his hand and grinds the heel of his palm against Klaus’s dick is tiny, rapid circles, making the latter cling to him with nails dug into the flesh of his back. “Do you want him to watch you touch yourself to the sound of my voice? Show him how easy it is to make you  _ lose control _ ?”

“F-f-fuck  _ yesss _ ,” Klaus groans. He ruts against Ben’s palm and drags his teeth over the other man’s shoulder. He finds the place where he’d made a hickey less than an hour ago and prods it with his tongue, making Ben hiss.

Ben uses his grip on Klaus’s hair to yank his head up before he can make the bruise any worse. “Naughty boys don’t get to bite,” he admonishes.

Klaus pouts and his hands slip down to Ben’s hips. “Do they get kisses?” he says hopefully.

Ben considers it, but Klaus has misbehaved so frequently today- really, he doesn’t deserve it. “No,” he says with finality. He places his hands on Klaus’s shoulders and pushes, and he goes down even as he sticks his lower lip out with a dramatic sniffle.

“You never give me my way,” he sighs.

Ben rolls his eyes. “Oh, shush.”

He gathers Klaus’s hair into a ponytail that he can easily use to control his movements, and he can see the way his husband’s face glows when he realizes what Ben is doing. Klaus quickly straightens his posture and gives Ben a look of doe-eyed innocence even as he salivates at the sight of the bulge in the other’s pants.

“You’ve been a total brat all day,” Ben says sternly. “I ought to punish you properly.”

“This doesn’t feel like much of a punishment so far,” Klaus replies with a smirk.

Ben raises an eyebrow, and Klaus falls silent. “You want Diego, don’t you?” he says. Klaus nods quickly. “Then show me.”

When Klaus looks confused, Ben clarifies, “Show me what you’d do to him.” He smirks. “What you want him to do to you.”

And  _ there _ it is. Klaus’s outward sass dissipates as he allows the fantasy to take over.

“I want him to put me on my knees,” he whispers, “just like this.” His hands creep up Ben’s calves, feeling the taut muscle beneath the fabric,  _ worshipping _ it. “Want him to tell me what a dirty boy I am, getting so hard for him when I’m at work. I know it’s wrong to fantasize about a patient, but god,” he closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. “He could fuck me  _ so good _ .”

Ben grins. “My, my, your thoughts really are especially filthy today,” he hums. “What do you want him to do after he gets you down on your knees?”

Klaus’s hands travel over his thighs, ghosting touches sending tense shivers throughout Ben’s body. He leans closer until his mouth is hovering  _ this close _ to his erection. His eyes slide up to meet Ben’s through the dark shroud of his eyelashes. Then his tongue pokes through his gorgeous pink lips and flattens against the bulge in his scrubs, and that’s it. That’s fucking it.

Ben’s other hand jumps to Klaus’s hair and he tugs with both fists, leaning into the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. Klaus moans and wriggles his tongue against the fabric, sending little shockwaves through Ben’s system. He has to yank Klaus’s head back or he’s going to explode. When he sits up, there’s a significant wet patch on the fabric of Ben’s scrubs, and it’s not just from saliva.

They’re both flushed and panting, buoyed by the thrill of a new sexual prospect and the novelty of doing this in the office. (They’ve made out a few times on the couch in Ben’s private office, but they’ve never done anything like this, and not so close to where a patient could easily wander in by accident.) Ben skewers Klaus on his simmering gaze.

“Show me how you’d do it,” he whispers. “I want you to show me how you’d  _ ruin him. _ ”

Klaus grins, far too Cheshire-cat-like for any normal person. He leans back in, hands firm around the backs of Ben’s thighs to hold himself in place.

“First,” he murmurs, “I want to take him apart with my mouth.”

His tongue drags up the line of Ben’s cock, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from shouting. It’s been so long since a simple blowjob felt  _ this fucking good _ . “I want to drive him crazy. Want him to tease me until I’m begging to taste his cock,” Klaus continues. “Telling me what a dirty boy I am for wanting to choke on it.”

Ben sucks in a breath as Klaus eases the waistband of his scrubs down over his thighs. He maintains burning eye contact while he does it, and Ben thinks he might just drown in those endless green eyes.

Klaus drags his tongue over the fabric of Ben’s briefs with teasing motions. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he mumbles. He catches the band of his briefs between his teeth and, once Ben has recovered his senses enough to give an approving nod, tugs them down until his cock bobs free. Klaus visibly licks his lips at the sight.

He wraps his hand around the base and guides it to his lips, teasing over the head with sweet kitten licks. “Fuck,” he groans. “Tastes so good.” He kisses down the shaft and then trails his tongue along a prominent vein back to the head.

“You always get so needy whenever you get near this cock,” Ben chuckles. “Do you think Diego would be as obliging? Do you think he’d let you choke on it if you asked nicely?”

Klaus gasps and wraps his lips around the head. Ben grinds his teeth and twists his hand in Klaus’s hair to keep himself from thrusting into his throat. He knows they don’t have much time, but dammit, it’s been a while since they did something like this and he really wants to savor it.

Klaus was honestly made for giving blowjobs. His tongue curls over the sensitive skin as he bobs on Ben’s cock, taking it a little deeper each time, tiny moans of affirmation sending the most delicious vibrations up his spine. He doesn’t take long to get nearly to the base, and by this point Ben is almost pushing up on the back of his throat, and he knows he should check to make sure Klaus is okay but it feels so fucking amazing he’s not sure he could stop himself if he wanted to.

With his hands firmly ensnared in Klaus’s curls, Ben slowly, carefully begins to thrust. When Klaus lets out a gurgling moan of encouragement, he gradually begins to speed up, rutting his hips against his husband’s tongue until he’s well and truly fucking his face. God, but it feels  _ incredible _ . It’s like something animal has taken hold of him and is spurring him on, telling him to take his pleasure and rush on toward his climax, reveling in the depravity of it all.

It’s not neat, it’s not easy, but that makes it so much sweeter. Klaus revels in the filth, gets off on the sloppy slide of tongue and spit and flesh, on the profound deviance of the act. He starts to palm himself over his scrubs, eyes jumping to Ben’s for permission.

Ben laughs, and it’s a bit hysterical. “Go ahead. I want to see you come thinking about how much you want to choke on his cock,” he wheezes. “Think he’d let you do it? He already knows what a filthy boy you are, getting horny just at the thought of blowing him. He’d be doing you a favor.” Ben bites back a loud groan of ecstasy.

“You look so perfect like this, Klaus, such a pretty mess. I bet you’d look even prettier with my cum all over your face.” He grunts as Klaus’s throat constricts around his cock. “You like that? Want me to cover you in my cum and tell you what a dirty boy you are? You like when I tell you how pathetic you are, how easy it is to get you off with just my voice and my cock fucking your throat?”

Klaus lets out a sound that makes every hair on Ben’s body stand on end. His hips speed up, for once not caring about Klaus’s comfort or what’s right or proper, just chasing his own pleasure. It’s the closest he’s ever come to losing control and it is  _ delightful _ .

His orgasm is approaching faster, like a bubbling volcano, like a supernova, and then he’s shoving Klaus off his dick with one hand while the other jerks himself to finish. His entire body screws up and curls in on itself, and nothing matters except the sunrise explosion unfurling within him. He’s so caught up in the pure, filthy pleasure of it that he almost forgets to look down and see the spurts of thin white cum striping Klaus’s face. His stomach drops when Klaus opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, eager and obedient.

His orgasm has only just begun to recede when Klaus lets out a choked gasp and spills all over his own hand. He strokes himself through it, not slowing the hand on his cock until the final aftershocks have faded into oblivion.

Ben is the first to jerk from the post-orgasm haze. “Shit,” he says, “Diego-”

“Five’ll take care of it. I need cuddles.” Klaus holds his arms out with a sweet smile that’s only slightly diminished by the lines of pearly cum streaking his face and stomach.

Ben hurriedly tucks himself back into his scrubs- there’s no time to find new ones to change into- and starts for the door. “Stay here and clean up. I’ll be right back,” he says. He doesn’t give his husband a chance to respond before he’s hurrying to the front counter to prepare Diego’s paperwork.

Miraculously, Diego isn’t waiting in the lobby. Ben thinks for a moment that he might have already left, but then he hears footsteps in the hall and the man himself comes up to the counter, looking considerably less red than he had in the exam room.

“There you are,” Ben says, trying to act like he hadn’t just had one of the best orgasms of his life while getting blown by his husband who was fantasizing about the very person in front of him. "I was starting to think you'd decided to take a nap on the chair."

“No,” Diego chuckles, running a hand through his cropped hair. “I thought about it, but it seemed like it might not be the best idea."

"I've done it. Surprisingly not bad, actually." This is easy, this he can do. Witty banter and pure professionalism. "We set you up for a cleaning. I know you probably don't want to come back after everything that's happened, but it's only twice a year,” he says as he scribbles on Diego’s appointment card. “Cleanings are important. It's how we stop any issues before they have a chance to really develop."

Diego takes the offered card with a small smile. "Yeah, um. Yeah, I'll definitely come back." 

His eyes flicker to the card in his hand, and Ben can see the question forming before he has a chance to voice it.

"Oh. Yeah. That,” he says. "If you ever wanted to, you know, hang out sometime. We would like that. Me and Klaus, we would like that."

If this were a cartoon, Diego’s eyes would be bugging right out of his face right now. Ben internally slaps himself and excuses are already fumbling over his tongue. "You don't have to." he says. "I don't usually hit on my patients, I swear. No hard feelings if you're not interested."

"No, I- no, l will.” Diego tries for an encouraging smile, and Ben feels like the sun just started shining on his insides. He tucks the card into his pocket. “Thank you, um. For everything."

Ben smiles back, not entirely sure that this isn’t an incredible dream. "You're fine. Thanks for coming, Diego."

Assured that everything has been squared away, he says his goodbyes and turns to head back to his office. He has some very important plans to make.

**Author's Note:**

> Runa and Rey are super talented and I just couldn't get enough of their fics, so I hope this prequel of sort did that 'verse justice. If you haven't checked out their works I highly recommend you do so, they're both AMAZING!!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and have a great day :D
> 
> Chapter title is from Bruises & Bitemarks by Good With Grenades


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